Dark Paradise
by hiddenlostsoulsx
Summary: What happens when Jim meets a driven detective, determined to destroy him for all his worth? What happens when he feels attracted to her? Would he allow those human feelings to take over him or would he just regard her like rubbish, like the rest of them? Moriarty/OC - More details inside
1. Chapter 1

Okay; this story is AU and Sherlock does exist (although he is usually just mentioned briefly), but it is more focused on the OC and Moriarty. It's the same old tale of the good police cop being attracted to the evil bad guy but ends up being heartbroken because she believes he doesn't like her back. But this **has** got a twist. The OC will not be one of those love sick puppies who would be suicidal about anything and everything and Moriarty will also be the same as he is in Sherlock. I honestly cannot wait to play Moriarty and swim around in his evil little brain. I really hope I do his character justice and you enjoy this fanfic. Please, it would be just appreciated if I got reviews, at least I would know where I'm going wrong. (By the way, I'm only 14, so just keep in mind that I might not have a large vocabulary or describe something perfectly!) So, now I'm going to stop babbling and continue with this fanfiction.

By the way; my OC is very loosely like Kate Beckett from Castle, but is not completely like her, she may have the same lines or even act the same, but the OC is a completely different person. If you'd like, you could look at a few Kate pictures to see how the OC looks if my description is a bit too vague.

* * *

"_I don't look; I hunt. And trust me, you don't want that." _

_There was a loud, disapproving scoff before there was any reply. "You talk big." The melodic voice began the pitch of his voice deepening with each word, "But you're ordinary." Those last words caused a shiver to run down the woman's spine. This man could seriously be creepy and dangerous whenever he wanted to be._

_This time it was Elisabeth's turn to scoff. "I can prove it." She crossed her arms against her chest and looked at James Moriarty with a glare. "It's not that difficult. Even you should know that."_

_Moriarty looked slightly impressed, he grinned, "Let's see. Let's see if you can find me before I find you." The voice was playful, but Elisabeth could clearly hear the threat in his voice, if he found her first, it would only mean that he was going to kill her. _

_However, before Elisabeth could reply she was cut off by a gunshot which was silent as it flew in the air towards her. The bullet came not so far away, but Elisabeth didn't have time to jump out of the way, instead, the bullet hit her chest and her legs gave way, letting her fall down on the wooden flooring of the warehouse. __There was simultaneously, a feeling like a bomb went off inside her chest, and that of the bullet being jack-hammered through her chest. Although__, before Elisabeth shut her eyes and let her blood flow out of her body, she heard the man's polished dress shoes squeal beside her. She felt a presence looming over her as her heavy eyes shut. _

"_Game on." _

* * *

Elisabeth's eyes snapped open a month later. She frantically looked around but saw the familiar setting of her unnaturally clean room. She gulped and sat up. It was a nightmare. Her throat was killing her, so she must have been screaming. She sighed and slid off the bed, her toes feeling the nice blood-red carpet down at the ground. One month. One month yet she couldn't get rid of the feeling of the bullet entering her skin and fracturing her rib. For a while she couldn't even get off the hospital bed without grimacing with pain. Elisabeth got up and stared at her body in the mirror.

There was a small dark patch between her breasts, which didn't look appealing at all. The doctor mentioned that the scar would never leave however the pain would dull over time. Well, he was right about one thing. Elisabeth glared at her scar, as if it would magically dissipate if she stared hard enough. No luck. A sigh escaped her lips once again and she looked up at her face. Bags were forming and she was slouching. Not good.

James Moriarty was a pain in her ass and she wasn't going to stop until she found him and placed the son of a bitch behind bars. Her job and possibly her life depended on it. _Let's see if you can find me before I can find you. _She wouldn't forget that threat. That would be the last thing she would ever forget. Although Elisabeth was shot, she honestly didn't regret taking up the case to look for the deranged man, in fact, she was glad. This case was the reason she woke up every morning, determined and slightly excited, even though because of him she would lose some sleep over it (but it really was not that important – locating Jim was a bigger issue).

There was a faint call. Elisabeth blinked before realising she was stood half naked in front of her mirror, lost in thought while her phone was buzzing silently. She raced to her bedside table and grabbed her phone. Before even reading the caller ID, she pressed the button and raised the phone to her ear, "Campbell." She said, slightly breathlessly.

"_Ah, nice to hear you're alive." _

That voice. She felt her skin crawl. "Moriarty." She hissed under her breath. Half of her wondered how he got her phone number, but shrugged it off, he'd have probably used his sources to get it from her.

"_Oh, so you do remember me."_

"How can I forget?" She said, nowhere near nicely enough, "You shot me in my chest."

"_About that." _There was a pause. Was Moriarty thinking about what he was going to say? Damn. Something was wrong. _"That man had missed- he was supposed to aim for your shoulder. Rest assured, he's been taken care of." _Elisabeth didn't know it was possible, but she shivered yet felt oddly comforting at the same time.

"Taken care of?"

"_Oh, do use your imagination, Ellie dear."_

Her face straightened. "He's dead."

Although he was on the other side of the line, she could just imagine him grinning like a hen. She was no genius but she was smart enough to have a detective job in Scotland Yard. _"Finally. Thought you would have known that before." _He sounded disappointed. _"Did the shooting slow you down?" _He was challenging her.

She balled up her fists, "No, in fact, I'm more determined to catch you now." Elisabeth felt her lips turn at the corners, why was she smiling?

"_Good luck with that, Ellie dear." _

"One more thing; if you call me 'Ellie' once more, I would surely not hesitate to put a bullet straight through your head when I see you again."

There was a chuckle. She didn't like it. It was too sinister yet she stood by what she believed. She hated anyone who nicknamed her that. It just boiled her nerves. _"I like you. You're not boring." _

Elisabeth raised her eyebrow, sitting down on her bed and crossing a leg over the other. "Boring? I can surely describe myself better than that." She couldn't believe it; she was now _flirting_ with the world's most dangerous consulting criminal.

Again, there was another chuckle on the other line. _"If you want, I can call you much, much more than that." _He was flirting back. She shivered once again, but made sure that it didn't affect how she held herself in front of the man. Was she really flirting with him, she just couldn't wrap her head around the fact. Before she opened her mouth to reply, Jim spoke once again, _"oops, time to go. Time flies by while you're having fun don't you? Well, ta-ta then." _Those last words were high pitched and just odd for a man his age. The line hung up and Elisabeth was sat there, staring at the floor with the phone still clinging to her ear.

He wanted her to play. And that's what she was surely going to do. Elisabeth Campbell was going to make sure she would do whatever she could to bring James Moriarty back down.

* * *

How's that for the first chapter? Please give me some feedback, it would really be appreciated and would help me make this so much better. Again, thanks for reading and yeah, next chapter should be up probably next week.


	2. Chapter 2

If Jim Moriarty hated one thing, it just had to be waiting. He was just too much of an impatient man to work on one thing for more than a few hours at a time. That was why he had given a little twist to his game with Elisabeth. After all, he loved playing with his food before eating (or in this case destroying) it. The man laid back comfortably on his plush leather couch at his own apartment, just waiting for some sort of news about Sherlock's or Elisabeth's progress on finding him.

How ironic that both a cop and the world's only consulting detective were aiming for the same thing yet didn't know that either existed. Maybe his game would be more fun if he brought in both the two together? Maybe their differences would make the game much more amusing to him. Jim shook his head. No. He wanted to keep them apart; he'd keep Sherlock on hold for now. He just needed to get rid of that one female detective.

When he met her, at first he was taken aback by how fierce she seemed. Maybe she wasn't so boring like the others. The Irish man grinned, leaning back further into the comfort of his sofa as he shut his eyes momentarily, going over many little details about both Elisabeth and their game.

She seemed determined. Too determined, to catch him. It could just be possibly the reason that he had gotten her shot and nearly killed, so it was all for that stupid justice crap. But even with his threat, she didn't back down. Instead, just a few days ago, when he called her she seemed to be flirting with him. He was sure that that was not in any criminology book. He was sure that she was just... he didn't know how to end it. Maybe that was it; maybe he was just confused.

No.

Jim Moriarty is never confused. Every time he is, however, he always finds a way to get rid of his confusion by either killing off the reason of his confusion or just ignoring it. But with Elisabeth, it just didn't leave his mind.

Jim sighed. He was over-thinking her again. He got up from his seat and moved to the empty kitchen, looking in the fridge but finding practically nothing apart from a month old take away that he had "forgotten" about.

He slammed it shut, groaning. He needed something to do. There was no top-secret government meeting for him to overhear, there was no bombs that he could place, and even Sherlock wasn't there to be toyed with. There was only her.

He grinned. Scotland Yard had no cases as of late and now it was time for a change. Jim went over to his favourite BlackBerry and typed up his order to his most trusted worker. He wrote exactly what he wanted his sniper to write on his note to the woman before sending the message.

_Do kill that man who lives opposite our female detective, oh and also, don't forget to send Elisabeth Campbell the message. –JM_

Almost immediately, a reply came, bringing a smirk to his face.

_Think it done. –SM_

Jim got up. He had to get ready in his one and only Westwood. He had some spying to do on his temporary favourite detective.

* * *

"We have another case."

Elisabeth looked up from her files once she heard a voice talking to her. "Now?" She asked the new rookie detective Spencer Jordan.

"The murder happened right outside your flat." Spencer informed her. "The boss wants you to handle the case."

"He knows that I've got to hunt for Moria-"

"He wants you to handle the case." The rookie repeated, impatiently. Elisabeth sighed and got up, grabbing her jacket with one hand and the keys to her car in the next, she looked over her shoulder.

"Then you're coming with me."

* * *

When they arrived there, everyone who they knew were working on the case were already gathering evidence, learning about the man who once lived opposite the lead detective of their department.

The victim was an adult male, shot cleanly through his head by just one bullet. He was single, and had practically no family since his parents passed months ago and was an only child. At least there wasn't a family to tell the regretful news to that night. Elisabeth squatted over the dead body, examining it thoroughly when she was interrupted for the second time that day.

"El? There was a message with the body; addressed to you." The elderly coroner spoke from behind her, his gloved hands stretched out to show a crumpled piece of note in his hand.

The brunette sighed, getting up to face him, "Did you read it?" She asked as she took the note, very slowly opening it as if she was expecting it to blow up.

The greying-man shook his head, "It was for you so I decided to keep hold of it."

Elisabeth nodded, "Thanks Ralph." She dismissed the man, looking down at the very messy note.

_This game is getting a tad bit boring, don't you think? Why don't we add some spice into it? _

It didn't take a genius to figure out who would write something like that. Elisabeth only had one person who she was playing "the game" against, and that man surely knew how to play. She carefully slipped the note into her coat pocket and sighed, getting back to analysing the dead corpse in front of her.

* * *

So sorry for the late post; tests are now officially over and I can now breath again. Finally. Thank you SOO MUCH for all your kind reviews, I really appreciate it. This was the most hardest to write. Seriously, I changed it three or four times before I could finally stick to one plan. I'm sorry it's short, but I've started on the next chapter already so.. here you are. I tried playing Jim, but now I see how hard it actually is to think like him... maybe I'm not a psychopath. Hm. That's new. Anyhoo, enjoy this chapter (if you can) and I'll update very soon.

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SHERLOCK. ALL RIGHTS GO TO BBC AND SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE.**


	3. Chapter 3

It was nearly midnight, or what Elisabeth thought, when she had gone to Scotland Yard's lounge to brew herself some coffee. While waiting for the coffee machine to fill up her usual cup, she was looking through the files of old cases that she was sure Moriarty had a hand in. _Carl Powers, sixteen year old athlete. Drowned while swimming on a school trip down in London. _The case was old and there was no evidence of fowl-play, but it did strike her odd that a boy who's hobby was swimming would end up drowning.

Elisabeth took the coffee and leaned against the table, thinking. She sipped the boiling drink occasionally when she would remember that she had it while thinking about Carl Powers. Reviewing the case notes and the medical reports, it made it highly unlikely for it to have been Moriarty's play. Moriarty had to have been only fourteen when Carl Powers drowned, but with his deranged mind, she was sure that was probably how he started off.

He was a psychopath after all.

Soon fatigue began clouding her mind and judgement. The more she tried understanding the scribbled handwriting of the leading officer, the more clearly she could feel Moriarty grinning somewhere at her confusion. _Tick tock, Ellie dear._ She could hear him singing. Oh how much she hated the man. It was like he would never leave her alone, whether it be during work, or when she was with her mother or even when she was trying to sleep.

_Let's see if you can find me before I find you._

The tired woman didn't even understand what the deranged man actually meant. Find her? He already knew where she lived, what her habits her, knowing him, he'd know the exact breathing pattern she had right now. Finding him, on the other hand, was the challenge, surely. She had heard of this genius, Sherlock Holmes, from her colleagues that he was also obsessed in looking for a man like Moriarty. Maybe if she'd pair up with him then this game of theirs could end quicker with her surviving.

Nope, two overly proud people would surely clash. She had heard enough about him in staff meetings by Anderson and Donovan. So that was out.

Elisabeth groaned when she realised how stupid she was. She had thrown herself into something that she couldn't understand anymore. She ran her hands through her light thin hair, pushing it out of her round face as she tried composing herself again. Being in Scotland Yard at midnight on a now Saturday morning was probably a bad idea. At the rate she was going, she was sure that she was going to go mad by just searching for the criminal mastermind.

She sat up straight, deciding to go through everything in her mind again, hopefully to find a clue to what he meant by his threat that would forever echo in her mind.

The first case that introduced her to the name Jim Moriarty was by a low-life serial criminal, who had told her that said man was actually his sponsor, and had invested in him if he continued to kill, which he gladly did until the day he was caught. Elisabeth sighed, nothing out of the ordinary there. Then she had pursued the new lead, a brand new investigation all in her own time and money to look for the sponsor, which lead her to the shooting incident.

But the way he acted, it was almost as if he was expecting her. The way he looked at her and just... grinned when she crept into the warehouse, thinking that she could've outsmarted the man but instead had gotten herself shot by a waiting sniper. Moriarty knew so much about her; her failed relationship with her ex-fiancé, her close bond with her brother, her habits while she just stood there, trying to take in the fact that she was so close to arresting Moriarty.

She realised; this must have all been planned out. Moriarty wasn't surprised when he saw her, instead he just welcomed her (which confused her) and introduced their game to her. Maybe that low-life creep of a criminal who introduced her to the name Moriarty was all part of the plan. But even then, why did he decide to play the game with her? Surely there were others to... interest him further. That Holmes guy was probably who he should be playing the game with, not her.

Too many questions yet so little answers.

Elisabeth went back to concentrating on the Powers file. She turned the page and noticed how long it really was before throwing the file onto the table. She stretched her arms and walked out of the lounge with the cup of coffee in her hands. Once she finished the coffee then she'd go home. Looking around, she noticed that the rookie cop who also stayed back was now long gone. She stood by her desk, closing up the file involving the death of her neighbour. Although she had made an arrest, she still knew that Moriarty and his sniper were supposed to go behind bars. The man she had arrested had even confessed to murdering the man; claiming it was a robbery gone wrong. If this was presented to the jury, it was almost certain that this would close the case, which was what her boss, Lestrade, really needed from this department.

As she went deeper in thought, she jumped slightly when she heard a cough behind her. Oh it was so recognisable. The cough wasn't even one of those polite coughs to grab someone's attention; it was more like someone coughing to stop someone else from speaking.

She whisked around, her hand automatically reaching for her gun but cursing when she realised that it was beside the coffee machine back in the lounge, twenty steps away from her current position.

"Oh dearie, looking for this?" Came the sing-song voice as Moriarty approached her with her gun in his hands, twirling it around his fingers as if it wasn't loaded. "Guns really don't suit you. You should've stuck with your previous job option, what was it? Ah yes, a teacher." He didn't even let her speak when he asked the question; actually, it wasn't even a question at all with the tone he used.

"If I was a teacher then who would you be playing this game with?" Elisabeth countered.

"You're not the only person in Scotland Yard, _dearie_."

"Stop calling me dearie." She hissed. She now really wished for her gun, her hands were aching from stopping herself from trying to snatch it out of the maniac's hands.

"_One more thing; if you call me 'Ellie' once more, I would surely not hesitate to put a bullet straight through your head when I see you again._" Moriarty recited, that annoying sly grin plastered on his face, "Well, _Ellie _dear, you don't have a gun right now, but in fact, I do." He then raised the gun to point it at her face, his expression still playful.

Her pulse quickened. This wasn't the first time since being shot where she was being placed at the wrong end of the gun, but it surely felt different and slightly scary. Maybe it was the fact that it was Moriarty holding the gun which was making her act this way. It was like he noticed her breathing heavily when he lowered the gun, clearly enjoying her distress as he inched the gun lower till it reached the floor. When she was sure that the gun wasn't pointing at her any longer, she calmed and began speaking again. "Why are you here?"

The man in the suit shrugged, "Bored."

She had a confused look on her face. "Excuse me?"

"I was bored."

The last time he told her he was bored, she got shot. She visibly changed her stance, which again, didn't go unnoticed by Moriarty.

"There aren't any snipers here, dearie."

"I'm not worried about th-"

"Oh don't be boring. Of course you're worried. You're worry constantly." Moriarty interrupted, "being shot has made you paranoid, slowly eating inside your sanity, making you look over your shoulder when you cross a shady man on the streets." With each word, he stepped closer to her, closing all space between them.

Elisabeth stiffened; he was too close for comfort. His lips were not too far from hers as he continued to speak the truth.

"I always have eyes on you. I have to make sure that you play our game right. I can't have you cheating so early on in the game, now can I?" His lips slowly moved to her ear, whispering every word which sent shivers up her spine. The tone wasn't playful anymore, it was deadly serious. Moriarty's lips moved to her cheek, which he pecked softly, which was a surprise seeing as he had practically just scared her.

As soon as the kiss to the cheek ended, Moriarty had vanished. Just like that, there were no signs of any disruption anywhere, even her gun seemed as if it hadn't been touched once. Elisabeth stood with her back against the wall, calming herself down from the encounter.

Once again she didn't even understand what the hell just happened.

One minute she walked into her office and the next minute she's slumped against the wall, as if she'd seen a ghost. _Well, that was a perfect description of Jim Moriarty. _Her mind would echo as she decided it was high time to go home.

Gathering her things, she practically rushed into the corridor and down the stairs when she realised something. Something to make the police believe that Jim Moriarty did exist. She turned around and went back up the stairs, into the security room. There was a camera right outside her office, she was sure it was on when she left; it usually always was. She opened the door which held all the computers and found the security footage.

Being a detective didn't mean she was that amazing with computers. She sat down in front of the screen, blankly wondering how to work the machine when the guard on duty walked right in.

"Ah, great- Dave, please." Elisabeth got up, allowing the guard to sit down, "I need to look at the footage. Could you show me the footage right outside my office around thirty minutes ago?" She asked the man. He was young, probably two years younger and was sure that this job would probably be temporary for him, seeing as he really didn't enjoy staying up at night for nothing.

"I can't just show you footage like that!" Dave refused.

"I need to see it; I uh..." She really didn't want to explain to Dave how Moriarty snuck into the office and talked to her. For one, she knew that he would not even believe her, and secondly, he just wouldn't give a damn so she decided to lie, "I lost my phone and I couldn't find it anywhere... so I was hoping to see where I placed it."

Dave huffed quietly but finally obliged, he scrolled down and chose the appropriate time, _12:37 _to be exact. He let the footage play for her as she watched intently, her heart racing. _I got you now, Moriar- _Her thoughts were cut when the footage skipped ten minutes, completely wiping out Moriarty's existence on camera. All she could see was her leaving the office for coffee and the next was her against the wall, scared.

She made Dave rewind over and over again, noting down how Moriarty had simply deleted the footage off the system, she even made him show her the footage of the hallway, and noticed how two times the footage jumped, one for him arriving, the other for him leaving. _Well, one plan gone. _She thought, disappointed as she was ushered out by a very irritable security guard.

Elisabeth walked down the stairs extremely slowly, her mind and heart racing. Tonight was very eventful. She hailed a cab and it drove her down to her apartment. She was sure that she wasn't going to have any sleep that night.

At least she had a day off the next day.

* * *

Just as quickly Moriarty had arrived in the building, he was off in his black BMW coupe down to his own apartment. He rested against the seat, there was plenty of time to think since the journey between his house and Scotland Yard was a long one. This time last week (or something like that) he was confused as of why he wanted to play the game with someone as dull and boring as Elisabeth Campbell. Now it was clear... sort of.

He was only doing it for the change. The thrill what he got from watching Sherlock was way different from watching her. For Sherlock, he could easily predict his every move, whereas Elisabeth continued to... surprise him. When he'd predict what she'd do, instead she'd do something completely different to how he'd expect it, and sometimes it'd end up finishing the job quicker. Jim had to admit; it was nice to have a change.

He shut his eyes, his mind replaying her expressions over and over again. Although he could easily guess what she was going to say but never what she was going to do. Her face when he coughed, he just loved how she recognised him easily; it flattered the highly egoistic man. Then he imagined her face after he pulled her own gun on her, how frightened she got, maybe if he wanted her attention he could do just that. Finally, her face once he kissed her cheek. Now that, he didn't know where it came from. The kiss was just... it just happened. It was a test, and also random but from what he saw after that confused him. It was a look of slight fear mixed with curiosity and confusion.

Jim, again, didn't like being confused but Elisabeth made him feel like this for the second time and he didn't like that one bit. Jim wondered whether he should try it again, maybe that would clear his mind. Jim didn't dare think if it was anything to do with feelings. He was sure to have gotten rid of those damn things years before he began his consulting, it was a burden which he didn't need, especially now when the game was so great and interesting.

He finally decided to just concentrate on his game with Sherlock. After all, he had bombs to place around the city and puzzles to add along-side them.

* * *

I honestly hate the way this is written up. Sorry if it's bad.

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN MORIARTY.**


	4. Chapter 4

Adrenaline coursed through his body rapidly, pumping energy and excitement throughout. Oh it was so close. Sherlock was about to break – it was all too easy. All it took from Jim's part was to strap some bombs on Johnny-boy and wait to see the consulting detective panic. Now they were standing on either side of the pool, with Sherlock's (well actually, John's) gun pointed at the disposed parka which held all the bombs in place while he stared on, almost urging him on. He was sure that if he was patient enough, Sherlock would inevitably do something stupid and Jim would be able to take advantage.

Well, that was until his phone rang.

_Ah, ah, ah, ah, stayin' alive, stayin' alive-_

Oh God, really?

Who dared to call him now, when the game was so interesting? Interruptions like these surely pissed off the consulting criminal. Although it was interesting to see John and Sherlock's confused faces stare at each other's as they wondered where _staying alive _was playing from.

"Mind if I get that?" Jim's voice sounded over the phone ringing.

The gun in Sherlock's hand remained pointing at the bomb, "No no please, you got the rest of your life." Sherlock replied, nonchalantly.

Jim picked up the phone, his face blank and frowning, "hello?" He said, his irish accent more noticable.

"_I'm waiting outside."_

Fazed, Jim looked at his phone and saw who was calling. "Ellie dear, pleasant surprise." He sang into the phone.

"_What did I tell you about calling me Ellie, Jim?" _Elisabeth hissed through the phone.

Jim avoided her question and instead asked his own, "What do you want?"

"_What I want is for you to come outside. Not armed, and _alone_." _

"Dearie, if you were afraid of the snipers, you should've said so." Jim mused.

"_Shut up." _

Jim's eyebrow quirked up, as did the corners of his mouth. His eyes looked over at his two guests and could almost hear the impatient consulting detective from the other side of the pool. Ellie dear had told him to shut up. _Him_. Now not even his own parents could tell him to shut up let alone some girl like her. No one dared to anyway. They all knew of the consequences.

"_Well? Are you coming or shall I come in and get you myself?" _

"Is that a challenge, my dear?" He questioned her.

"_If you want it to be."_

Those words send tingles up his spine. He _liked _it. Lowering the phone, Jim walked ever so slowly towards the bombs, looking down at it thoughtfully before his eyes moved to Sherlock. "Sorry, wrong day to die."

"Oh," Sherlock replied casually, "did you get a better offer?" He asked as he (very) slowly lowered the gun.

Jim looked back down at his phone momentarily, making a choice. _Sherlock Holmes, the genius at his level, or Elisabeth Campbell, the pest that needed to be taught a lesson. _He chose the latter as Jim slowly backed away. "You'll be hearing from me, Sherlock." He spoke, almost with a sinister voice, all the playfulness gone.

As precaution, Sherlock raised the gun to the bombs once more as Jim left the pool, raising his own phone up to his ear. "You've caught my attention, dear." Jim spoke.

"_Wow, you took your time." _

Jim chuckled quietly as he reached the doors, he raised his unoccupied hand and clicked his fingers, and almost instantly, the sniper lasers were gone. "Dear, did you miss me then?"

"_I want you to tell me something."_

"Ooh, straight to the point then, fine, shoot – oh, too soon?" Jim grinned, purposely choosing his words just to annoy her.

"_Oh, Jim I'm dying of laughter." _Sarcasm was rich in her voice, he loved it.

Jim exited the swimming pool and looked around the dark night. The parking lot was empty, except for one or two cars parked, and there was no one, not even Ellie dear out there. Before he could question it, Elisabeth spoke behind him. "What do I gain from this game?" She asked.

Jim's grin widened as he turned to face the woman in heels. The woman was dressed casually, in jeans and an oversized sweater. "Our game? Well. You get to say you beat me."

"Well that's not good enough."

"So you don't like your reward?"

Elisabeth stopped. Not many people lived to tell the tale of meeting Jim Moriarty and surviving, let alone being able to brag about beating him in _something_. She shook her head, "Moriarty-"

"What happened to 'Jim'? It was suiting you so well." He continued to act playful as he slid his hands into his suit pocket.

It took her a while to realise that instead of calling him the usual, Moriarty, she had been calling him Jim. It was almost too casual... too normal, coming from her. "Back to the point," She avoided, "what do I gain from all this?"

"Dear, you know I don't like repeating myself."

"Other than the chance to brag about it."

It was Jim's turn to be thoughtful. He hadn't really thought about _her_ winning. He was too cocky and arrogant to get it past his head that she _probably _could figure out what he wanted from her. The man shrugged finally.

"Fine, tell me this- how long do I have to play this game for?"

"Bored already, Ellie dear?"

"Ji- Moriarty-" She warned.

He took his hands out of his pockets and raised it in front of her defensively, "Okay, okay, dearie."

"How long do I have?"

"As long as you want." He nearly sang.

This was fustrating Elisabeth. She couldn't have a serious conversation with the man in front of her let alone figure out what exactly she was playing with him. She didn't want to directly ask, for she didn't want to look stupid. Wait. Why did she want to seek his approval? This was the other infuriating thing about the Irishman in front of her. She had no idea why she acted differently to please the man. The way Jim sang those words... it sounded – "NO!"

Elisabeth realised that she had screamed out instead of stopped herself mentally. Well damn. She could see Jim's face nearly cracking from holding that damn grin for too long. Seriously, how the hell could he smile _that_ long?!

"No what, dear?"

"Nothing."

Jim stepped closer to the woman, closing that last space between them so much that their chests were practically brushing. _God. That man. _

Her cheeks tinted pink and before she could step back to return the space, he took her by her arms, keeping her there but he didn't do anything else. The woman stared at the man, her eyes slightly widening. The things she was thinking about weren't appropriate, especially for the man in front of her. It was confusing why she was feeling so heated that moment. The Irishman wasn't doing anything but holding onto her arms to stop her moving, it shouldn't affect her in this way, especially if she didn't like the said man. It wasn't as if he was one of those hot supermodels you'd see on magazines or maybe in films.. but for a criminal mastermind he surely looked – stop! The woman mentally berated herself as she went off track. There was no reason for her to like the man in front of her. She hated him...

But she had to convince herself that.

But it wasn't as if Jim had any care for personal space as he was pushing her to the BMW behind her. But it wasn't possessiveness, it was thoughtful, hesitant. Jim was experimenting with her and she found herself complying.

Ever since that kiss to the cheek from the midnight visit from him few weeks ago, Elisabeth had stayed up at night, thinking. It wasn't like Jim to just kiss and leave, that had more of a loving side to it- like how her fiance would leave her for work in the morning, with a kiss to the cheek. It was bizzare and out of character for Jim to do such a thing. But everytime she thought of it she would _never _get a reasonable answer to his actions.

Maybe that was what attracted her to him.

When her backside hit the cold, black bonnet of the car, she shivered. She had called Jim for the reason to find out what the hell she was supposed to be doing, but now she found herself being pushed to the car by the older man and she _liked_ it. She was surely going to Hell for the things she was thinking about.

Jim squeezed her arm, and she let out a sigh. It didn't hurt, it was almost like he was massaging her. Well, either way it felt bloody good. But in a weak attempt to find out what he was doing, she questioned so quietly that even she doubted herself, "J-Jim – What are you doing?" To Hell with calling him by his last name, if someone was being pushed to a car near the middle of the night, the last thing they would be is formal.

He refused to answer as he slowly leant in closer to her neck, deliberately missing her face. _Now that was a tease._ He seemed to have been entranced by her neck as he nuzzled in. That instantly made her wonder what type of lover he would've been, whether he would've been the affectionate lover or a... more dominent like usual. Elisabeth felt Jim open his lips slightly, so she could feel his breath on her neck as he began lightly nipping on the skin, testing. He wasn't sure at all. He was acting like an inexperienced teenager trying to see how he could go along with this.

But, just as it felt great, like last time, he pulled away quickly. The man seemed to miss her eyes as she tried remembering how to breath once more. Before she could ask what happened in a daze, Jim just walked away into an awaiting car away from them. She stared blankly at the blurred figure.

What the hell was that?!

* * *

Was that good enough? I really don't know whether I should add smut into this in later chapters.. this is just a test, I'm willing to see whether you guys would like smut in this story soon (or not - I don't really know). Anyway. Thanks for being patient and reading!

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything apart from my OC.**


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